Saturday, February 07, 2015

Wednesday, February 04, 2015

The general nature of travel these days tends to gall me.
Circumstances dictate that because of an abhorrent minority providing reason
for the alleged authorities – every damn time I need to go through Edinburgh
Airport, it seems that the means of getting there gets less close to the
terminal every time. This time I took a tram in order to scratch an itch, it
was very pleasant but unless the service is extended to run 24 hours then I’m
unlikely to be a regular user. Plus I’ve you’re toting much in the way of
luggage then that can be problematic also. As much as the logistics nark me, I’m up for anything that
means I don’t have to drive.So there I was, sitting in the Costa watching buses wait for
the barriers to be lifted and lowered. A little ahead of the checkpoint, some
tables and chairs are arranged to serve the outlet close to International
Arrivals. They’re there to service those who are gasping for a cigarette I
guess. Once they get to grabbing a coffee on the road to being able to
“breathe” again. There must just have been a flight in because the cafe culture
furniture is filling up with puffers. One of them, sporting a bright red
toorie, excitedly attempting to light his coffin nail.As airports go, Edinburgh is OK. The extending never stops
though and the ways to fleece the traveller is increasing exponentially. The two hours free wi-fi evaporates and
doesn’t assist when the flight is delayed. The tail wind fairies were off duty
so I arrived around an hour later than scheduled. Yep. I was definitely in Madrid. The evidence is there even
although the recall is foggy. I was there for a little under 48 hours and hit
the ground running. Getting to Sala Caracol just as The Wicked Whispers were
midway though their set. All a bit to “britpop” for these ears but people seemed
to like them. I’d never even heard of them to be honest and they sound exactly
like something that would name themselves thus. I recall sharing a joke with
someone about Supertramp but I can’t remember who, something to do with the
hairdon’t action onstage. It's sort of like that Temples group, I don't get that either.There was time for saying hello to a steady stream of
compadres from all over. Then The Cynics came on and made like they do. The
band is popular in Spain. That’s why they’re topping the bill at Go Sinner Go
Episode 9. From there, a wee squad of us headed for Weirdo. My companions had
tried to find it the night before but couldn’t. I remember the first time I
tried to locate it by myself. T’was no easy. So I think the kids reckoned it
was worthy of the reputation this fine establishment has. The drinks and the
music were hitting any number of spots. From there to the mighty Wurlitzer and a 6am finish. I’ll spare you the
finer detail of all that but as ever, more converts to the cause of both
hostelries were made.Most of Saturday was spent in a half-shut knife type state,
not exactly hungover, more just outright knackered. It was a gas to go and view
La Fiambrera, Ruth and Maite’s flagship store on Calle Pez. They’d just taken
custody of the premises when I was there last and the transformation is nothing
short of visionary. From there it was off to Bodega Rosell with Sara and Ramôn,
the Vermut/croquetta combo jump started the engine a wee bit before a necessary
siesta to get the blighter back on the rails. By the time I needed to
rendezvous with the kids I felt almost human again. Almost being the watchword
here. Ran into a whole bunch of familiar faces prior and après Dead Moon and it
would have been nice to spend some more time with them.

Dead Moon were incredible. The final piece in the puzzle for
me after seeing the documentary. Sure, I liked the records but I’d never seen the
intense, undulating beast itself. Some sound gremlins ran amuck here and there
but in all, rock and roll is seldom as glorious as this anymore. Fred has made
incredible progress since his surgery last year. The fact that they’re playing
at all is something but with this passion, it reinforces that sometimes this
stuff comes from someplace else. His voice was the perfect howl from the
intersection of Alex Harvey and Bon Scott. There was no “Parchman Farm” but
maybe next time?

However, I had to be at Weirdo to experience La Hembra Alfa DJ,
so the kids dropped me off on the way home. I swear the place was more packed
than I’ve ever seen it but I laid off the “gintonics” and after an hour, the
batteries were running low again. This was a dangerous segment of the night.
Had I run into anyone at all, then I would have been doomed but after wandering
into Wurli and not seeing anyone, I had the presence of mind to call it a night.
Call me a lightweight – it was 3.30am – but I had people to see later in the
day and I didn’t want to be ill. A rare case of common sense overcame me, that
almost never happens.

So the bulk of Sunday was spent seeing friends including GHR
impresario, Marco Padin back at La Fiambrera. From there, it was back for my
bags and to head for the airport. Clocking in a little under 48 hours, this
just wasn’t enough time. Here’s hoping that the next visit serves up more of
that precious commodity.

Sunday, February 01, 2015

Search This Blog

A wee bit of background, etc.

This all kicked off as a print (Xerox) magazine in 1977 and now it's on the interweb. Named after the title track on The Dictators Go Girl Crazy (40 years old in 2015) the purpose has always been to uphold what’s good and pure and right in terms of rock’n’roll and its satellites.

It has nothing, nada, nowt to do with any festival(s) that devalue our namesake so don't send mp3's or anything else with regard to setting course for a career in the music business or anywhere else.

Take a look at what goes on here and if you think your fare fits then drop a line and maybe we can work something out.

I plan to put PDFs of all physical issues up here eventually and in addition, all Rockin’ Bones, Watch This and Fuzzbuzz.Maybe Psychedelic Basement, etc from Sounds too so that everything is in one place. Some of the quality of the source material isn’t terribly good but it’s all I have to work with. It will take some time. The 3 page pilot issue, “NBT 0” from September 1976 never survived as far as I know. Some of the content is a wee bit embarrassing at this juncture but every journey has to start someplace, right?